


Bloodied Snow

by MetalMistress



Series: [Dead By Daylight]: Fuck Your Memento Mori! [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: AAAAHHH I'M NERVOUS MAMA, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternative Reader, Alternative Style Appreciation, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Author Is Really Nervous And Doesn't Take Criticism Well So Please Be Nice, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bad Humor, Because he's a cute lil guy and a pancake isn't done until it's been flipped on both sides., Body Modification, Breeding Kink, Breeding Kink But No Babies, But also, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Fluff, Ear Piercings, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Eyebrow Piercings, F/M, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Goth Appreciation, Goth Reader, Gothic, He's kinda cute, Humor, I Admit It, I ramble when I'm nervous, I'm Not Funny But I Try To Be, Inappropriate Humor, Light Angst, Long spindly leg havin' ass bitch, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, My First DBD fanfic, OTP Feels, Okay he's really cute and I'm a hoe for him, Pack Feels, Piercings, Praise Kink, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Humor, Some Humor, Spooky Motherfucker, Switch Frank Morrison, Tattoos, Team Feels, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Entity Is A Spooky Bitch, The best of both worlds, There's also frank, Tongue Piercings, We Like Wearing Black Here, Yes I'll Write More Fanfics Where He's Just A Bottom, please forgive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetalMistress/pseuds/MetalMistress
Summary: "Go left."repeats the voice in your head."Go left."...Fuck it, guess you're going left!With an irritated sigh, you turn left as the voice commands you to and begin to walk ahead in that general direction. You're not even sure you're going the right way until you hear the voice hum approvingly, and speak some sort of.... gibberish nonsense. At least you think it's nonsense, until something flashes before your eyes and your point of view changes a little. It takes you a minute to recover from the bright white light that flashed only moments ago, so your eyelids rapidly flutter like the delicate wings of little butterflies flapping through the wind. Your vision clears, and you immediately become confused. What you find is strange-- bits of dark fog, hovering like little puffy clouds just above the moonlit snow. You're about to question the voice aloud again, until it speaks;"Follow them.""This is how the stupid people die in horror films, you know." You snark.
Relationships: F.J.S.J. | The Legion & Original Character(s), F.J.S.J. | The Legion/Reader, F.J.S.J. | The Legion/You, Frank Morrison/Original Character(s), Frank Morrison/Original Female Character(s), Frank Morrison/Reader, Frank Morrison/You
Series: [Dead By Daylight]: Fuck Your Memento Mori! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897360
Comments: 22
Kudos: 83





	Bloodied Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mysafeplaceishere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysafeplaceishere/gifts).



> Hi everybody!  
> So, I'm just gonna jump right into it and say I am... _very_ new to this fandom. I am a smol bby, and I require gentle reassurance 😅. I came into this fandom thanks to my bestie, who has been doing her best to teach me everything she knows. I want to dedicate the first fanfic of this series I'm making to her as a thank you for putting up with my horrible anxiety, and my many, many questions. Hopefully you guys like it and think it's okay. Feel free to leave a comment, if you do! Don't be shy, I actually really love talking with folks in the comment section because it keeps me motivated. I try to read everything that comes through. Ao3 is my social life, essentially. 😅
> 
> Anyway, here are some basic warnings;  
> -Blood and Injury  
> -Fixing said injury  
> -Smut.  
> -Breeding Kink, but no actual babies will be made.  
> -Frank just likes his girl to be full. 😳  
> -Violence.  
> -Cursing.  
> -Nicotine addictions. [Frank, you smoker--]  
> -My shitty sense of humor. [yes that is a warning, I'm very cheesy and I make cheesy jokes.]  
> -The entity being a spooky ass long-leg havin bitch.  
> -Tattoos and Body modifications!  
> -THIS IS NOT AN UNDERAGE FANFIC. FRANK IS AN ADULT, YOU'RE AN ADULT. EVERYBODY IS AN ADULT.  
> -I DO NOT SUPPORT UNDERAGE PAIRINGS. Everyone involved in this story is 18+. **Frank is just barely 20 here. So are you. ******  
> -Also, no lewding Susie in the comments, please. Her canon age is supposedly really young, and as an adult it makes me uncomfortable when I hear people saying she's hot. She might be 18 in this story, but still. 😬  
>  -I'm only bringing this up because it's been brought to my attention that this is a problem in the fandom.  
>   
>  **Anyway, I can't think of anything else. Hopefully you like it!**  
> 

( _Banner Created By Me._ )  
( _All And Any Art Used Belong To Their Respective Artists._ )

"This is no place for cowards."  
**-The Legion**

* * *

It was late at night when you got off of work at your father's handyman shop. You've been hammering away in the shop all day, tending to the many projects that your father had left for his _darling_ daughter to complete in his stead. You weren't surprised when he told you that was what you'd be doing the majority of today, as that is his typical routine-- Start a bunch of projects that he knows he's not going to be able to finish and then send his eldest into the back of the store to finish those projects for him, because he'd much rather be in the _front_ of the shop flirting with the pretty women that come waltzing in through the door begging for his _'help'_ because he looks like a _'big strong man'_. _Oooh!_

**_Disgusting._ **

It was annoying and sometimes downright sickening because even though you'd work yourself to the bone, he paid you next to nothing. Pocket change, just enough for a moldy candy bar. You're 90% sure it's illegal of him to pay you so little, but in the small town of _Ormond, Alberta,_ no one really has the ability to go to the Department of Labor to leave a complaint.... and It's not like he's poor, either! God knows he spoils your little sister Maddie with everything she's ever wanted in life! No, you're just the _'family disappointment'_ because daddy wanted his first born child to be a boy, but he got you instead. Then he changed his mind and decided he wanted a baby girl, but he didnt want _you._ No, he wanted a _new_ baby girl that would grow up to be a straight-up girly girl. So he and your mother tried again, and thus Maddie was born.

After she grew up, it quickly became apparent that the two of you would never get along. It wasn't because her all-pink wardrobe clashed with your all-black wardrobe, it was because she was a snotty little brat who couldn't keep her hands to herself. She did everything she could to make your life miserable; she'd storm into your room, cut your clothes up with a pair of scissors, break your video games, or steal your phone just for shits and giggles. When you got smart and started locking things up so she couldn't do that anymore, she'd come in and beat the crap out of you.

She finally stopped being a little bitch when you decked her in the face a couple weeks ago, though. Your knuckles still kinda hurt.

After closing up the shop and lock everything down, you begin the long and tiresome process of walking home-- your least favorite part of the day. See, _Daddy Dearest_ refuses to drive you home-- said you were an adult now and that you should have a car by now, despite paying you diddly-squiddly-squat on your paycheck. He was merciless and unforgiving too, always made you walk home in the storm. Thunderstorm? Walking home. Weird freakish hurricane? Walking home. Tornado? _Walking home_. Even more fucked up? Your mother supported your father's decision and thought walking home through all that made you 'strong'.

No _mom,_ it made my nipples feel like they're falling off because it's windy and it's cold. _Fuck_ you.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/gp/187285942@N03/9F04V0)

Your clothes do very little to protect you from the ice-cold September air. It's always cold here in Ormond, but _especially_ so during the winter and fall months. The sweater and thick black jeans you're wearing do very little as far as protection from the elements go, but you honestly had thought when you got up this morning that they'd be enough to shield you. The weather app on your phone said it wasn't going to be _supercalifragilisticexpiali **fucking** docious_ cold today, so you are a _little_ confused as to why the bones feel like they're almost frozen solid and why your nips feel like they're pitching a circus tent in your bra. Maybe you should've brought an extra jacket, just in case... Perhaps you could turn back and grab a jacket from one of the work uniforms? That would offer extra protection from the cold.

You turn back around with the intent to head back to the shop and grab a jacket, but openly gawk when _impossibly_ thick fog blocks your way. You widen your eyes a little bit in surprise at the way it almost seems to reach out for you, pooling around your ankles before rising up to your knees. Your lips purse together into a tight-lipped frown as you experimentally shift your weight from foot to foot. The frown on your face only deepens when you find that the fog is _really_ heavy, almost like it has actual weight to it. It's like it has a life of it's own, and you feel like it's physically dragging you down despite the fact that you haven't moved for nearly an entire minute. Not only that, but your head is starting to hurt. Seriously, there is this _unbearable_ pain in the back of your head that causes you to whimper and raise a hand to cup the back of your skull to try and keep it from exploding.

Then, you hear a voice whisper;

##  **"Come to me..."**

HAHAHAHA, _NO._

You immediately spin back around and begin to storm your way down the dimly lit street. Fortunately you live just down the street from the shop-- _un_ fortunately, it's still a really long walk. You can see the house in the distance, but the huge distance in between you and the front door makes your stomach drop. Not to mention, the long line of streetlights that were previously lit seem to have-- well.. _gone out._

"Shit." You curse under your breath before nestling your head down into your shoulders and letting out a shaky exhale. You decide to just go for it, and just start sprinting as fast as you can down the street. After ducking your head down, you cast a paranoid glance over your shoulder, only to internally panic when you realize that the fog has seemingly advanced on you. Wispy strands of the heavy mist look like a set of hands reaching out for you in your twisted mind, causing you let out a terrified squeal before turning back around towards your house.

Fuck. The fog moved. It's in front of you, now!

You let out another harsh curse, only this one is obviously a little more distressed and a bit louder. You really don't want to run into the spooky fog. You've seen the movie adaptation of Stephen King's novella called 'The Mist'-- shit is _terrifying._ But, you don't really seem to have a choice in the matter so you keep on running, cursing under your breath the entire time. See-- this is why you got so mad that your dad refused to drive you late at night in the first place. The shop didn't close until 11 PM or 12 AM, _sometimes_ even later. Who knows what is out in that mist? Your little town isn't exactly, uh... _Well, let's just say there's a lot of wildlife that could eat you and like to wander into town._ There's _also_ a lot of shady folk that live in this area. Not to mention, creepy fog that seems to have a mind of it's own does _not_ fit your idea of a good time, _especially_ when there seems to be an equally creepy voice emanating from it. So you keep on running, and running, and running and eventually you hit... _snow?_

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/gp/187285942@N03/zz5mxi)

_What-- why--_ you've should've been _home_ by now! It wasn't supposed to snow today, what's going on!?

You immediately come to a halt and end up skidding a little in the snow from how hurried your pace was. After reorienting yourself and trying to screw your head back on straight, you take a look around and immediately become confused. This... this doesn't look _anything_ like your neighborhood! This looks _like-- like-- like the Ormond wilderness!_ What are you _doing_ here, you were _just_ in a little neighborhood in the middle of town--

**_"Come to me..."_ **

Shit. There's that voice again. That stupid annoying voice-- this is the 2nd time it's spoken to you and you already hate it and everything it stands for. Not to mention, hearing a voice that doesn't seem to have a face doesn't say very good things for your mental health. So you shake off your worries and try to ignore the voice as you begin to trek your way through the deep powdery snow, hugging your arms closer to your chest and vigorously rubbing them with your fingers in an attempt to keep yourself warm. You shiver, and feebly tighten your grip around yourself. You're not sure what's going on and you're not sure where you are, but even you aren't stupid enough to stand still in the middle of a snow-covered forest. You're in the middle of Canada, you don't just... _sit around in the snow!_ That's asking for trouble! Frostbite, predators, freezing to death-- there's plenty of dangers, especially if you have _no fucking idea_ where you are. Still, you have to try. You've got to keep moving, or else you're doomed to die.

You continue walking on, trying to fight with the wild wind that seems to be hell-bent on whipping your hair all over the place. You sputter and spit out strands of your hair, attempting to use your sleeve to swipe it out of the way. You almost immediately regret the action, because as soon as your arm moves away, a strong gust of wind blasts you and nearly knocks you over. With a loud squeal, you try to catch yourself and swallow thickly-- landing in the snow would've been a bad idea. Snow sticking to your clothes just sounds like frostbite waiting to happen. You cringe and reach a hand up to cradle the side of your head while a throbbing pain shoots through it, as the voice once again invades your mind;

_**"Go... Left."** _

I'm sorry-- what?

"Scuse me?!" You cry out, nearly fed up with the voice that seems intent on trying to get your attention. "Who the fuck--!?"

 _ **"Go left."**_ repeats the voice in your head. _**"Go left."**_

...Fuck it, guess you're going left!

With an irritated sigh, you turn left as the voice commands you to and begin to walk ahead in that general direction. You're not even sure you're going the right way until you hear the voice hum approvingly, and speak some sort of.... gibberish nonsense. At least you _think_ it's nonsense, until something flashes before your eyes and your point of view changes a little. It takes you a minute to recover from the bright white light that flashed only moments ago, so your eyelids rapidly flutter like the delicate wings of little butterflies flapping through the wind. Your vision clears, and you immediately become confused. What you find is strange-- bits of dark fog, hovering like little puffy clouds just above the moonlit snow. You're about to question the voice aloud again, until it speaks;

_**"Follow them."** _

"This is how the stupid people die in horror films, you know." You snark, causing the voice to cruelly chuckle in amusement at your displeasure. A deep frown settles onto your face and you sigh once more before mumbling to yourself and following the dark hovering clouds of foggy mist. They seem to dissipate as soon as you come into contact with them, like a candle flame being snuffed as you continue along the path that this... _voice_ seems to have made for you. You keep moving along, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to peer through your snow-covered eyelashes and stare at what you _think_ is a set of large buildings in the distance. The structures look quite intimidating to you, to be honest-- they're tall and imposing, dark, dirty, decrepit and dilapidated... and judging by the big rusty ski-lift in the distance, you'd have to guess you're at the infamous Ormond Ski Resort. 

Well, at least now you know where you are.

 _ **"There."**_ the voice says. _**"Go there."**_

"Really?" You reply with obvious hesitation to follow the voice's orders. Maybe it's just your horror-movie-enthusiast instincts kicking in, but everything inside of you is telling you _not_ to listen to the voice. Everyone in town knows that this is where those four teenagers went missing awhile back, _and_ where that old dude's body was found. People have a tendency to disappear around these neck of the woods, and no one really likes to come up here anymore. Everyone is afraid of getting nabbed by the four kids who are rumored to have killed the old guy. Not to mention, word is that late at night there's a lot of creepy fog that lingers around the buildings. Dark, nasty looking fog that could swallow you whole. You've always just chalked it up to rumors, but now? Now you're not so sure.

Hell, even the teenagers that used to come here to drink and smoke weed don't do that anymore-- you know that for a fact, because your little sister used to hang out around at these parties when she got older, and you always went along to make sure no one tried anything on her. You might hate her guts, but-- _that's still your little sister._

After the kids went missing, the more rebellious teenagers thought the Ormond Resort was up for grabs as a party-spot. Your sister didn't know anyone at the parties personally, but she always liked the attention she got from the guys there. Unfortunately, she didn't realize that the attention she received wasn't always good. Some football player roofied her drink when she wasn't looking-- _but you had_. You'd heard the guy talking to his teammates about this girl he planned on 'sharing' with them, and you didn't know who he was talking about until you saw him hanging around your little sister. Gosh-- she was so mad when you ripped her drink away from her _and_ pulled her away from the guy, who bolted out of there as soon as he figured out that you knew what was going on. She started cussing and screaming at you, attracting the attention of the party, who all eagerly watched the entire thing unfold with delighted smiles on their faces. You let her _scream,_ and _scream,_ and _scream,_ but then you just dumped her drink on the ground near the bonfire, and wordlessly pointed out the half-dissolved roofie lying on the muddy grass.

She immediately started crying when she realized what you had done for her. She even hugged you and started sobbing into your chest, smearing her pretty makeup all over your collarbone. You think it was the one time she appreciated having you as an older sister, actually. Unfortunately, neither of you hung around long after that, because that was also the same night that the janitor's body was found. Shortly after your sister started profusely thanking you, some teenagers let out panicked yelps. They had been drunkenly playing in the half-melted snow when someone picked up a bloody frozen foot instead of a muddy snowball like they had intended.

The two of you never spoke of that night after that. As far as the world was concerned, neither of you were there.

You want to turn and run now that you know where you are, but your options don't look that great. Mother Nature is working against you, as the storm picks up speed and sends heavy globs of snow hurling directly towards your face. Your house is about a 30 minute to an hour long walk from here, and you think you'd freeze before you could even get out of the forest. There's not really a choice here-- you're either damned, or you're dead. So with an huff of annoyance, you furrow your brows together before stomping your way through the heavy snow. You pretty much have to lift your knees up to your chest just to get through it all, but at least you're making progress.

You decide to avoid the first building you come across, if only due to the appearance of the structure. Not only does it look creepy as hell, but the building itself is falling apart and looks quite rickety. It's only been a couple years since the last time you were up here, but the building looks somehow _way_ worse than it originally did back in your late teens. It's like-- like it's aged 50 years or more within the span of 2-3 years. Parts of the roof are either torn up or completely missing, flimsy bits of plywood has been put up to cover large holes and broken doorways, glass windows have been shattered to bits and pieces... the entire building looks like it's on the verge of collapse. Not exactly the most trustworthy looking structure in the area, that's for sure. If the wind blew too hard, it looks like the place would just... _fall down._

Deciding that the building is just too far gone to risk it, you mosey on over to the back of the property in hopes of finding another much safer structure to inhabit for the night. There's not much to see when you get back there-- just more heavy fog, it looks like. A frown settles onto your lips before you open your mouth to ask the voice out loud if this is all there is, but a familiar throbbing pain in your head tells you that they're going to answer that question before you even get to ask it;

_**"Keep walking... Into the mist... Into the fog."** _

Snow crunches beneath your heavy footsteps as you silently trudge onward through the mist, shivering violently and clattering your teeth together as you try not to freeze to death. Normally you'd question your sanity after being lead to a series of buildings in the middle of a blizzard by a voice in your head, but normally you're not frozen to the bone and freezing your ass off either. You keep a brisk pace, forcing your entirely numb body to carry on through the freakish snowstorm that you're _90% sure_ the voice had something to do with. It's too early for snow, even for Canada. Still, you keep going on. Also, you're surprised at how well you're taking this! Take a moment to consider the evidence; a seemingly sentient fog, an oddly deep voice that gives you a headache, and a strange supernatural snowstorm that you were apparently teleported smack-dab in the middle of. By all means, you should be freaking out and having a mental break down by now. But for some reason, you're perfectly calm.

Okay, you're a _little_ irritable.

After you make it into what you feel like is the very heart of the sea of fog, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of a very tall building. You can already tell it's a part of the resort-- the building's exterior is stylistically a lot similar to the one you first came across, but this particular structure looks a lot more maintained. The roof doesn't have any holes in it, there's no sign of wood rot or even mold on the exterior There's a couple pieces of plywood here and there, but they are reinforced and appear to be quite sturdy. This delights you at first, but then you come to realization that makes you sick to your stomach. All the staff of Ormond Ski Resort have long since abandoned their posts, and some of the repairs made to this building look quite new and shiny. Who comes here and updates a building just for funsies? I'll tell you who; _Nobody!_ Somebody has to be living here!

But who?

After swallowing down your nerves, you try to soothe your super tense stomach as you begin to make your way closer to the front door. You don't want to just barge in, especially since it looks like someone is living here. Not to mention you can a dim flickering light peeking out from just beneath the bottom of the door, which means someone is _definitely_ home. You take one final deep breath to calm yourself before raising your hand to knock on the door. After you curl your fingers into your palm to form a tight fist, you hesitantly swing your hand down to knock on the door... _only your fist never makes contact with it._

Before your knuckles can even knock against the old wooden door, it unexpectedly swings open with a hard slam and four sets of arms suddenly come launching out of the darkness. They're so fast that you can't even inhale to let out a scream before you're suddenly grabbed by the shirt and are forcefully yanked into the building. Your feet rapidly kick and dig into the rickety wooden floors, which loudly creak in protest under the weight of your violent thrashes. One of your attackers shuts the door behind you and locks it, barking and snarling orders at the other three that begin to forcefully bring you to your knees. You're no match for all three of them, but you give as good as you get by violently swinging your fists around and knocking at least two of them in the throat-- a male and a female if you had to guess by the choked up gasps and coughs that leave them.

But despite your best efforts, they still manage to overpower you and drop you down to your knees before harshly shoving you and pinning you to the ground. The one who seems to be the leader hangs around in the back, circling around and pacing back and forth with a blade tightly clenched in his fist. The others work on pinning you down, growling and hissing at you under their breaths as you squirm around and wiggle with everything you've got to try and get free. Your efforts are futile-- you aren't going anywhere.

There are two males and two females you quickly realize, and the females are in the process of holding down your legs, while one of the guy's holds your arms above your heads. The 'boss' of the group lets out a dark chuckle before spinning his blade around in his hand and launching himself at you. A ear-splitting scream of horror is ripped from your throat while you squeeze your eyes shut to brace for the incoming impact of the blade, only to snap them wide open when you feel your captors release their hold on you after something wraps itself around your rib cage. You look down and let out another screech when you find that a giant set of spider-like legs have seemingly phased out of the floor and have wrapped themselves around you, almost in a protective manner. This seems to confuse the others more than it actually scares them, and the three that pinned you down immediately whip their heads around to their leader for answers. He only shrugs his shoulders before suddenly flinching alongside at a loud otherworldly hiss echos through the room.

The voice you heard from before suddenly makes itself known, this time seemingly speaking out in the open air instead of in your head. That's not the only thing that surprises you-- it doesn't use the same soft-spoken almost hypnotic tone it used with you earlier. This time it sounds _pissed_ while roaring at the others; _**"SHE STAYS!"**_

All four of your captors look at one another in utter confusion as the long spidery legs release their hold on you and begin to seep back into the floor as if they were never even there. The moment you are freed from the clutches of the legs, you scramble yourself across the floor to get away from that particular section of the ground. Once you feel you are at a safe distance, you ball up into a fetal position before snapping your gaze up to your attackers.

You're just realizing that they're wearing masks. One of the female's masks has big round eyes painted onto it, and her mouth is crossed out with what you're _guessing_ is blood. She audibly curses under her breath while shaking her head disapprovingly at you, before turning her head around to look at the other female and wrap her arm around her in what you can only describe as a comforting manner. She even asks if she's okay. The other female nods, jostling her unique mask that is held together by metal brackets and wire around on her face. Meanwhile the two males exchange glances, and you note how one of them has carved their mask into a skull and uses a black bandanna to cover their mouth. The ringleader has the simplest, but arguably most intimidating mask of all; a crudely painted wide-eyed smile that has blood splattered all across it. Honestly, you don't understand how horror movies don't unnerve you, but somehow that simple mask does.

Maybe it's because he's the one that leaped at you like a wild animal on the hunt. Yeah, that might have something to fuckin' do with it.

The five of you stare at one another for several minutes before the girl with strands of neon pink hair slipping out from behind her mask attempts to jog over to you, but the other female suddenly grabs her by the wrist and harshly whispers out; "Susie! No!"

"We can't just _leave_ her there on the floor, Julie!" whines the girl apparently known as Susie. "Look at her, she's all confused!"

"Probably doesn't have a damn idea what's going on." says the guy with the skull mask. "She didn't even really try to attack us. I doubt she's lethal."

"I dunno, man. She decked you and Julie in the throat pretty damn good!" chuckles the one with the smiling mask, before he slowly turns his head away from his comrade to look at you directly. You squirm uncomfortably underneath his watchful eye, which makes him let out this little breathless laugh as he shakes his head in amusement at your apparent discomfort. He tilts his head to the side, obviously studying you for a few quiet moments as you fearfully twitch around on the floor. Eventually he stuffs his blade back into one of the _many_ pockets that decorate his jacket, and then places his hands on his hips while letting out a sigh that morphs into a dark chuckle. While waving his hand around dismissively in the air, he says; "Ahhh let her go, Jul. I'm sure little miss Goth Chick here has figured out by now that if she tries anything with Susie, then I'll cut her fingers off one by one and stuff 'em down her throat. _Haven't ya, sweetheart?"_

You roll your eyes at the threat--you've heard that one before in a movie, so you're not too phased by it. Still, you rattle your head around like a bobble-head at the guy before whipping your head around to look at the girls. Julie hesitantly releases her hold on Susie at the impatient sound of the ringleader's snapping fingers and curses at him under her breath for rushing her, while he just snarls at her to shut up. Susie, on the other hand, hisses _'Shhhh!'_ at the both of them before rushing over to where you're curled up on the floor. She drops to her knees so quickly that you violently lurch away as a reflex-- she doesn't seem to be too surprised, she and her friends _did_ just try to kill you after all.

"Hey, woah! It's okay! It's okay, I'm _not_ going to hurt you anymore. I _just_ want to make sure you're okay." She says in a hushed voice while holding her hands up in surrender. You blink several times in disbelief before suspiciously narrowing your eyes at her. Understanding your hesitation to believe her after everything that just happened, she tries a different tactic and raises a hand up towards her mask to take it off. You widen your eyes in surprise when her mask comes off, revealing pretty blue eyes and a gentle smile. She tilts her head to the side, making a few stray strands of neon pink hair to fall in front of her face as she carefully places the mask on the floor beside the both of you. You openly gawk at her in shock when you realize she's one of the kids that went missing a couple years ago, which means the others are _Joey,_ _Julie Kostenko, and Frank Morrison._

Judging by their murderous demeanors that you were a first-hand witness to, you'd have to guess that the rumors they killed that old janitor are true.

"You're the kids that went missing a couple years ago... Your missing posters are still plastered all over Ormond..." You mumble quietly, unaware that your statement has caused the others to become uncomfortable. Susie flicks her wide blue eyes up to yours, where she goes very still for several minutes. You realize you must have said something wrong, and immediately apologize; "I'm sorry--"

"No, it's okay!" Susie says while shaking her head before tilting her head to the side, where she softens her expression before biting down on her lower lip. "We just... it's been awhile since we've had to think about that. It's okay though, it's not your fault. Anyway, you're from Ormond too?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am. Born and raised there. I went to school with you guys. Senior class." You reply with a violent shiver that causes Susie to frown on the spot.

"Aww, you poor thing. Here, take my hoodie--" She says before immediately ripping her pullover hoodie over her head and passing it to you, smiling when you greedily snatch it from her hands and tug it over your own head. You let out a small little sigh of contentment that causes her to giggle before sympathetically smiling at you as she goes on to say; "Jeez, you must have been _freezing_ when the entity took you..."

"The entit-tit-tit-tit-tit-y? Wh-What's that?" You ask through the consistent chattering of your teeth.

Susie blinks at you before turning her head around and mumbling out; "Frank, she doesn't know about the entity..."

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/gp/187285942@N03/335dm5)

You turn your head around just in time to watch Frank slowly take of his bloodied grinning mask off and toss it to a nearby side table, where it clatters against the hard lacquered wooden top. A sharp set of dark brown eyes stare back at you through narrowed slits, and your stomach immediately twinges-- for what reason, you're not sure. Your breathing quietly hitches at the sight of Frank's face in the flesh; those missing posters didn't do the man justice. Like, at _all._ He's ruggedly handsome in a way-- almost dangerously so. Maybe it's the tattoo on his neck, or the scars that cut across his nose and the corner of his mouth. Maybe it's the way a few strands of sweaty dark brown hair cling to his forehead after he slides off his hood, revealing more of the fluffy brown hair that sits on the top of his head-- you're not sure, you can't say for certain. The only thing that your brain can come with at the moment is that the name for the way Frank's hair is styled is called a 'low fade' haircut, and that he looks quite handsome with his hair cut like that. Thanks brain. _Totally_ helpful information. 

Why is it that you always find the moody guys with anger issues to be hot?! Ugh. Stupid feelings. Stupid men. Stupid daddy issues.

You try not to stare _too_ hard at Frank as he slides his hands up the sides of his partially shaved head, before threading his fingers into his hair and vigorously fluffing it up with his hands by shaking the long strands of hair around. He lets out a heavy sigh, as he drops his hands back down to his sides while shuffling his weight from foot to foot. Then he pauses and looks back up at you, tilting his head to the side as he inspects you one final time before seemingly deciding that you ought to know what's going on. He arches a pierced brow at you before huffing out; "Those legs that grabbed you? That voice you heard? That's the entity. That's the sonofabitch that trapped you here."

"Long-spindly-leg-havin'-ass-bitch." mutters Joey, who grins when Susie loudly snorts in response.

"Trapped me here? He _led_ me here." You say lamely while blinking up at him in disbelief, before sparing a second long glance at Joey and Julie as they begin to take their own masks off. Frank narrows his eyes at you when he realizes you're not looking at him anymore. Feeling slightly irritated that you've decided to stare at his friends rather than focus on the conversation at hand, he snaps his fingers at you to try and get your attention. However this just pisses you off, and you whip your eyes back over to meet his darkened gaze before angrily hissing at him; "I am _not_ your dog, so quit snapping your fucking fingers at me like I'm some sort of prissy pooch! If you were any closer, I'd bite the damn things off and spit them in your fucking face!"

Frank's eyes widen in surprise as the rest of the group quietly throws their eyebrows up as far as they will go. Susie, Julie, and Joey all exchange uncomfortable glances; this could go one of two ways. It's no secret that their 'boss' has a nasty temper and is prone to expressing rage via murder or violence when he's pissed off. More than one survivor has ended up being Mori'd during a trial for getting a little too ballsy with him. Still, he does appreciate fire and courage in a person and will occassionally let them go as an act of mercy. Unfortunately, he's a very impulsive and fickle man, and his decisions usually depends on his mood-- and Frank has been very _pissy_ today. So when Frank unexpectedly hurls his head back and lets out a loud burst of boisterous laughter, the others let out quiet sighs of relief and realize Frank is going to be merciful tonight. Meanwhile, your face twists in confusion as Frank maniacally giggles to himself and begins shaking/pointing his finger at you, while letting out a loud whoop of laughter-- you had fully expected him to cut his losses and slit your throat right there, but it appears he finds you entertaining.

 _You're not sure if that's a good thing._

Frank giggles and wipes his eyes while shakes his head back and forth, before replying to you with a wide, devilish grin; _"Damn!_ I've been sassed before, but not like that! Oh I think I'm gonna like you, girly! _Yeahhh_ , we're gonna get along _juuuuust fine!"_

"Oh, you'll _like_ her alright. Especially if she keeps talking to you like that." Julie teases in a playful tone as she softly smirks at the back of Frank's head. Frank's mood does a quick 180, and he hisses back _'piss off, you smart ass!'_ while flipping Julie off over his shoulder, though the gesture just makes her cackle and the others softly laugh. Frank just rolls his eyes in annoyance before turning his attention back to you.

Blinking in confusion, you stare up at Frank as he takes leisurely, bouncy steps over towards you. There's this cocky, boyish grin on his face that causes your tummy to flutter, and you deeply frown on the spot because you're not sure how you feel about the way your body is reacting just yet. He reaches both of his hands out for you and Susie to take, clearly intending to help the both of you off the floor. Susie reaches up without hesitation and grabs a hold of his hand with a bright smile on her face, while you accept his offer with obvious reluctance. Frank pulls the both of you to your feet with little to no effort, and your stomach curls when he ends up pulling you so close to him that you can feel his warm breath fan over your face. You shift around on your feet for a moment to quell the butterflies in your stomach, lightly bouncing around on your toes as you brush off your clothes to distract yourself, while Susie happily runs back to rejoin Julie and Joey.

"So what's your name, cutie?" Frank asks while softly smiling and looking at you through lidded eyes, while also managing to catch you off guard with the unexpected pet name. "What do you go by?"

"Nothing worth repeating. Call me what you want, I don't care." You reply with an careless shrug of your shoulders and a dismissive wave of your hand, while also trying to avoid directly looking at Frank so that you don't end up saying something stupid. He crosses his arms over his chest before raising a hand to thoughtfully tap on his lower lip, making no attempt to hide his smirk as he looks you up and down while also beginning to slowly circle around you. He hums to himself, arching a brow and nodding his head like he's impressed-- at what, you're not sure.

After scoffing and rolling your eyes at his behavior, you go back to trying to dust off your clothes and straighten them up. The floor is pretty dusty, and you're wearing all black, and dust doesn't exactly have a history of getting along with black clothes. As you're trying to dust yourself off however, the hoodie that Susie gave you clings to your sweater and rides up a little bit as you move around, inadvertently showing Frank a decent amount of skin on your right side. You hear his footsteps suddenly stop circling around you, so spin your head around to see what he's found to be so interesting, and find that he has found great interest in a tattoo peeking out from underneath your clothes on the right side of your body. 

"What's that on your hip?" He purrs unabashedly while flicking his gaze back and forth between you and the tattoo, as a naughty grin comes over his face.

"It's one of the tattoos I got myself for my 18th birthday, 2 years ago." You reply with a casual shrug of your shoulders. "Took me _forever_ to save for the fuckin' thing, but I did it."

"Ooooh, you've got tattoos? What about piercings?! Frank has a bunch of tattoos and multiple piercings." Susie declares in an excited tone while eagerly bouncing back over to you and Frank, as Julie and Joey curiously trail behind her so they can also get a look at your body modifications.

You turn your head to look over at Frank and ask; "You do? I mean-- can see the neck and the ear and eyebrow piercings. What about others?"

Frank mischievously smirks at you before opening his mouth wide and letting his tongue hang loosely, showing off the silver barbell that has been pierced through his... _very_ long pink tongue. He curls it rather suggestively at you, before slowly withdrawing it back into his mouth with a soft chuckle. Then he just flashes you his pearly-white smile as if he hadn't done anything wrong. _Damn him. He's making it **so** hard for you to figure out how you're feeling right now._

You stare at Frank owlishly for several seconds before forcing yourself to spit out a response to Susie's question; "Oh. Oh, I-- Okay. We-Well--, uh--, Yeah, I--... _._ Yeah, I've got piercings and tattoos too. Pretty much every spot on my ear has been pierced, um... as far as tattoos go, I've got two. I have a moth tattooed on the back of my neck, but my favorite tattoo is the giant black viper I have on my right side. It starts on the back of my hip and curls around my side to the front of my torso, where the head rests just under-- well... my tit."

"Why'd you get a tattoo of a snake?" Frank asks, sounding genuinely interested in the matter. He even tilts his head to the side as he casually sticks his hands into his pockets, giving you this adorably little crooked smile that makes your heart clench. 

_Stop it. Stop it Frank, stop being so cute. Stop it!_

The interest in your tattoo brings your attention away from his flirtatious behavior and calms you, even if only a _smidge_. Still, it doesn't entirely calm your nerves as you are still quite flustered over his blatant attempts to flirt with you in a not-so-subtle manner. The others are catching on to his efforts, judging by the way they're all smirking and shaking their heads in amusement. You're definitely not used to being hit on-- it's not something that happens to you every single day, so it's still kind of a strange experience for you. Still, you try to keep a brave face and end up summoning just enough courage to bashfully reply; "I just... I had a couple as pets... I just think they're really pretty... "

"And I think _you're_ really pretty." He shamelessly flirts, causing the others to let out loud whoops and hollers of approval as you wildly blush. He smirks triumphantly as a deep shade of red settles across your cheeks, only to widen his eyes as a thought crosses his mind; "Hey, now there's an idea! You said your favorite tattoo was the viper, right? Why don't we call you Viper, since you want to be stubborn and not tell us your real name?" He says rather cheekily.

"I mean-- I like it better than 'girly'." You snort with a playful shrug of your shoulders. "Alright. Yeah, I guess you can call me that."

Susie squeals excitedly before rushing over to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug-- the gesture shocks you to the core, but you manage to hug her back as she happily nuzzles her face into your shoulder before excitedly squealing out;

_"Welcome to the family, Viper!"_

* * *

It's been a long couple of months.

Since your arrival that fateful night all those months ago, a lot of things have changed in your life. You could say that your entire life as you once knew it to be had been completely flipped around, but not all of it was bad. For starters, you had a new family; _The Legion,_ as they called themselves. Your unexpected kidnapping by the entity had pulled you from an unhappy household and dropped you right into the lap of a mishmashed family of rebellious teenagers and young adults, whom have all come to love you in their own unique ways. Your killer-clique family members all had their own love languages; for example, Joey was the guy that lived to make you laugh.... and that desire to make you laugh until you cried came quite in handy, especially as of late!

You see, it had been revealed that you had been selected to act as a 'killer' in the trials, despite never having done anything more than _beat the absolute shit_ out of someone. This confused them, but they knew there was no questioning the entity. There was no begging or pleading with the omnipotent deity-like creature, because when it made a decision, that decision was _final._ You had no choice in the matter. One day you'd have to sacrifice for the entity, and there was nothing you could do to avoid that. As someone who has never killed someone before, this obviously upset you. Luckily for you, however, you had four new family members to help kick your ass into shape. ...Unluckily for you, this was done quite literally. 

The Legion have the privilege of being able to choose who among themselves were going to be sent to trial whenever the Entity called upon them, and this provided some protection for you because they could take turns going out in your place. This gave you some time to mentally and physically prepare yourself for trial... _but not very much._ The Entity was very much wise to the other's plans to help you, and he decided to show you and the others mercy by allowing them to train you before you go on trial. But the others knew he would not wait forever, and they made sure that you knew that. _Every single day,_ you were to train with either Julie, Susie, and Joey outside in the snow, and none of them ever went easy on you. More often than not you'd end up completely beaten and bruised, and would have to limp your way back inside the run-down resort building that the five of you all lived in.

_This is where Joey comes in._

While one of the others are grabbing a shit ton of ice packs to soothe your bruised muscles, Joey likes to sit in your room with you and try to make you laugh to keep you distracted from the pain. He'll talk to you about pretty much anything that crosses his mind; music, old movies that he used to watch, memories of he and the Legion before they got caught up in the Entity's fucked up game of hide-and-go-seek. He'll also bring up memories of funny conversations he and the others had just hanging out the resort, waiting with a homemade med-kit for whoever to come back from the trial. Those are his favorite memories to bring up actually, because those are the ones that never fail to make you laugh. 

Essentially, laughter is Joey's love language.

Susie on the other hand? She's all about helping you and the others. Susie is arguably the most compassionate of the Legion, and this shows in pretty much everything she does. As of lately, you've been trying to make small repairs here and there around the dusty ol' resort building that you all live in, and Susie has taken to helping you in your quest to improve the quality of you and the other's overall life. You've done many repairs around the place-- kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms. Didn't matter what part of the building you stood in, because there was probably something in there that you and Susie had fixed together. She didn't have the handyman experience that you did, but she was a huge help in locating parts that littered the building. Like the heater in the basement, for example; everyone practically tackled the both of you to the floor after you managed to fix the heater that had been broken for weeks prior to your arrival, and it was all because Susie had managed to find a spare part lying around in the yard during one of her trials. That's just how Susie shows affection though; she likes to help because it helps her feel like she's part of the group.

Julie's way of showing affection is... _interesting._ She prefers to show her appreciation for you by quietly checking on you as you rest after a hard day of training-- _especially_ after the days when you train with her, because she cracks down on you _with everything shes got_. It's why she personally tends to you after you go a couple rounds with her outside, it's why she takes the time to carefully wrap up your bleeding knuckles after you split them open trying to punch her. It's why she grabs 20 more ice packs than she needs to, it's why she helps carry you to the bath after training. She's brutal during training and she knows it, but there's a reason why she goes so hard on you. Back when she and the others first got sucked into the entity's twisted game, she died a _lot._ When you fail to capture survivors and sacrifice them, the entity goes after _you_ instead. Instead of sucking out a survivor's hopes and dreams, he takes _yours._ It feels like part of your essence is being painfully torn from your body. It's an ache that a person should never have to feel, but she has many times before.

_She would like to prevent you from suffering the same fate as she did._

It took you awhile to understand how Julie works. She's not physically affectionate, and she's not exactly one to mince her words either. She's quite blunt and quite 'out-there' about her opinions and she never really hesitates to say what's on her mind, even if it's possible that it'll upset someone. A prime example of this is when she gets locked into a heated argument with Frank. She will say or do something _way_ out of line and Frank will be on top of her ass within seconds, cussing her out and hurling the _nastiest_ insults you've ever heard a person say. She doesn't just lie down and take it though-- No, she fights back, and she fights back _hard._ She will physically try to hit Frank in the chest with her fists, but he just stands there and takes it because he's not the type to hurt someone he genuinely cares about. He doesn't love her like _that_ anymore, but that's still his friend.

Susie told you in private that's part of the reason that the two of them broke up pretty much right after they all got stuck here in the entity's realm-- Julie used to just go along with everything that Frank said because she wanted to be liked by him, but eventually she got sick of it and started speaking out about it. Frank likes things done a certain way and he _definitely_ doesn't like to be told no, so it pissed him off when Julie stopped listening to him like she used to. It was frustrating for the both of them because it became apparent that they actually pretty much disagreed on everything. No subject was left untouched; everything from how bloodpoints should be spent on food, supplies, and clothes, to what song they should play on in the background during a board game.

It didn't stop after they broke up either. No, it continues to this day and you've already been witness to some of their fights already. Julie has _immense_ attitude, and it pisses Frank off to no end. One moment he'd be sitting there next to you on the couch in front of the fireplace, and then not even 20 minutes later he's storming out of the room because Julie got snarky over something stupid he said. He didn't want to lose his temper on her like he does with the survivors, so he always just got up and walked to another room to cool off and break something for you to repair at a later date.

Speaking of Frank, you haven't... _quite_ figured him out yet. Which is strange, considering he always seems to be wherever you are. For example-- if you're trudging around the building and are looking for something to repair in order to keep busy, Frank does one of two things; he'll walk along the rafters like a sinewy feline stalking after it's prey, or he'll suddenly drop down from the rafters right in front of you and scare the shit out of you. You'll screech and smack him on the chest before angrily asking him how he got up there, and he'll just laugh and call you adorable before running off. Another thing he likes to do is come into the kitchen to harass you about your eating habits while not-so-subtly stealing a piece of your food, and then he likes to dare you to try and get it back from him. He likes that bit in particular, because you always react the same way; you get all annoyed and then you try to steal it back, which usually ends up in the both of you running circles around each other in the kitchen like a bunch of idiots. You can never catch him because he's too fucking fast and it always irritates the shit out of you to the point where you start hurling insults at him-- but that's why he does it, now isn't it? 

Your reactions are what he's after. He likes seeing you flustered, he enjoys seeing you squirm, and he _revels_ in pissing you off enough to the point where you start cussing at him. He _lives_ for it, he _breaths_ for it and he just can't get enough. He likes the hunt, he likes the idea of chasing you around the resort like a frightened little bunny rabbit lost in the woods. It's a game to him, and it's one he very much enjoys. It's like a house-cat playing around with a little mouse, but having no real intention to hurt or harm it. He doesn't want to hurt you, he just wants to be a dick and scare/annoy the shit out of you because it's funny as hell to him when you get pissy. It's all fun and games at the end of the day though-- you can never stay mad at him for long, especially when he does something sweet like pop up during training to make sure you're doing okay and that the others aren't beating you into the ground too hard. It's weird, cause 90% of the time you don't even know he's there until whoever happens to be training you is suddenly pegged with a snowball to the face

On the topic of training...

Late last night, you and the others had a _'family-meeting'_ about your training progress. You were making some headway, but you weren't making as much as the others would like. No one expected you to get fighting fit within the span of 5-6 months, but they had thought that you would be doing better than what you were. The others tried to explain it in a non-confrontational way, but you pretty much clammed upon the spot regardless. You're a very naturally defensive person-- always have been. You had to be if you wanted to survive in your old household with your mentally and physically abusive sister, and your emotionally unavailable father. The others became visibly distressed when you suddenly seem to mentally check out from the conversation, and Susie, Joey, and Julie weren't quite sure how to handle it. It's the first time they've ever had to deal with that, so they didn't know how to approach you when you were obviously dissociating from reality.

Frank knew how, though.

It's no secret Frank got tossed around from foster home to foster home like some sort of human cash-cow. He told you all about his last foster father and how he'd pick up the Family Services check and would go straight to the bar to get shitfaced, but he _also_ told you about the other households. Endless fighting, endless arguments, endless insults.... Yeah, he knew what it was like to dissociate for hours on end while sitting on a twin bed in a 10 ft by 10 ft bedroom, listening to the constant screaming outside of the bedroom door while the world keeps on spinning like nothing's wrong. Of course he knew how to help. _He lived through it._

The others didn't quite know what he was doing or had planned when he suddenly broke away from their spot on the raggedy couch-- you didn't know and/or weren't even aware, you were too busy dissociating to really pay any attention. Confused and semi-interested in what the 'boss' had planned, they watched with puzzled expressions as he rounded the fancy ornate fire pit in the middle of the circular sectional sofas and jogged over to where you were seated on the other side of the fire pit. You were still zoned out when Frank decided to plop his tall, skinny ass right beside you and lightly tap you on the shoulder before instinctively leaning away a little. The unanticipated touch caused you to violently startle and swinging your fists as a reflex, but Frank's hands came up to expertly catch them in his hands. It took you a minute to figure out what had happened, but you pretty much started bawling the moment you did.

Frank didn't want the others to see you cry. He knew the others wouldn't pick on you for it. If you were a survivor running from them in the middle of a trial, then hell yeah they would pick on you for it. But you're not a survivor running away in a trial. You're _Legion,_ you're part of the _family..._ and what does real family do? They protect each other without judgment. Not to mention, he doubts you're the kind of person that wants four sets of sympathetic eyes staring at you as you sob, so Frank makes a split-second decision that is probably unexpected from someone who is a known serial killer with a snotty attitude; _he hugs you._

You let out a squeak when Frank flings open the varsity letterman jacket he has on and suddenly wraps his arms around you before pulling you right up against his surprisingly warm chest. Your mind scrambles to understand what just happened as you slowly tilt your head back to look up at Frank, who just quietly stares back at you before reaching a hand up to cup the back of your head and bring it back down to his chest. Your eyes go wide as your cheek is gently smooshed up against the thin fabric of the shirt that is keeping you separated from his skin, and you can't help but greedily nestle closer to the chance source of warmth when he wraps his arms around you in such a way to hide your face. As you're soaking up the warmth while also trying to calm down, the strong scent of cologne hits your nose and it takes everything within you not to melt into Frank's lap with a purr. _Of course he's uses cologne, the guy takes like 20 minutes just combing his hair to try and get it to sit just right on top of his head._

The others tried to ask Frank what's going on, but he just mumbled some lame excuse about you being cold. It was pretty obvious what happened, but no one really wanted to push the issue.

After you calmed down, Frank quietly suggested to you that you consider talking to the entity about creating a deal of some sort for some power. The others nodded in agreement and said it's probably your best bet to give you some sort of advantage during a trial, but you brought up that you have no bloodpoints to spend. Frank immediately spit out that he'd happily spend them in your place, and that he was certain he could convince the entity to allow it. _So that's what you did._ You and Frank hyped each other up before running outside and summoning the entity, who was quite curious as to why the both of you were calling him. Frank stood in front of you in a protective manner-- something that did not go unnoticed by you-- and explained to the entity that you wanted to make a trade; his bloodpoints, for a little bit of power. The Entity was intrigued by Frank's gesture-- apparently he must have grown quite fond over you during your time here, because the Entity named an overly high price just to see how Frank would react, and he didn't even _flinch._ Amused by the human's bravery, he lowered the cost and said that come morning, you'd be faster, stronger, and, _as a bonus,_ would be able to see in the dark.

He never told you how the changes would take place, but you figured it out pretty quickly when you woke up and looked in the mirror the next morning.

When you typically wake up in the morning, the first thing you typically do is waddle off to the bathroom to do your wash your face. In your bleary-eyed drowsy state, it hadn't crossed your mind that the entity said the changes would be made apparent to you come daylight. You had completely forgotten about it in fact, until you went to look into the mirror to wash your face and were met with a pair of big, bright blood red eyes with snake-like vertical slits for pupils that ran the entire length of your iris. It took your brain several minutes to figure out what was going on, so you kind of just stood there staring at your reflection for several minutes before you were able to comprehend what had happened to you. Apparently, the Entity has a sense of humor. Your nickname 'Viper' had actual weight behind it now.

...This isn't what you had in mind when you asked for help.

You forcefully push out a shaky huff of breath, while scrunching your eyebrows together in confusion at the sight of the red eyes in your reflection. They changed-- your fucking _eyes_ have changed into _snake_ eyes. What other freaky shit did he do to you? The Entity said you'd be faster and stronger. What-- are you going to be able to constrict someone like a snake too? How much of a monster did this-- this-- SQUIGGLY ALIEN BITCH make you out to be?! What was next!? Scales? Fangs? Bite their neck and pump a shit ton of venom into their veins?! You were already struggling to come to terms with the fact that you'd eventually have to kill someone, why did he also have to make you physically feel like a monster by throwing red eyes into the mix?! Why did he have to take part of your humanity away? You weren't ready for that yet.

_You weren't fucking ready._

An angry snarl rumbles through your chest before ripping it's way through your throat and falling from your lips. You begin to tremble and twitch as rage builds within you, forcing your fingers to curl into a fist before you pull your fist back and drive it straight into your your reflection. The mirror shatters upon impact, causing little glass shards to be driven into your knuckles while the rest clatter to the ground and crash into the sink. Red blood bubbles to the surface of your skin, making you let out a pained hiss that is closely followed by a quiet growl. You stare at your broken reflection in the bloodied shards that lay across the bathroom, and decide to spin around and stomp off back to your room. 

You don't even bother to wrap up your hand when you get back to your bedroom. Matter of fact, you end up angrily kicking the med kit across the floor, causing it to slam into the metal locker you've been using as an wardrobe. The loud crash of metal on metal causes someone to cry out 'What the fuck?!' from the hallway just steps away from your door, but you're too pissed off to really care. No, you just flop into your bed and cradle your bleeding hand close to your chest, hoping to get a few uninterrupted moments to yourself to cool off before you have to face the others and tell them what went on.

It doesn't look like you're going to get any time to cool off though, because your solitude is soon interrupted by the steady creaking of your heavy door being pushed open. Your eyes flicker away from the pool of blood that is starting to stain your bed sheets, and you're met with the handsome face of none other than Frank Morrison, whom is casually walking into your room like nothing's wrong. Upon seeing you on the bed, he flashes you a genuine smile that causes the corners of his eyes to get all crinkly. Frank maintains his grin as he swaggers on into your room before politely shutting the door behind him to give the both of you some privacy.

"Heyyy cutie. I was wondering if you knew who-- woah... Woah, hey!" He begins with a cheerful tone, only to trip over his own words when he spots the all-too-familiar sight of bright red blood just _gushing_ from your torn up knuckles. He watches it flow down your hand in little broken up streams like red rivers, where it travels down your arm and soaks into the bed. He's so caught off guard that it takes him awhile before he realizes he's been standing there in silence for a solid minute. He quickly spits out; "You're bleeding! Baby, why are you bleeding?! _Who hurt you?_ Do I need to kill someone? Where's that god damn med kit, I'm gonna use that scalpel in it to carve their fucking eyes out--"

As Frank begins tearing your room apart for the med kit that is _right there on the floor in front of him,_ you lay there on the bed contemplating over the pet-name he just used on you. _'Baby'._ Huh. You don't think he's called you that before.... Usually he tends to stick to the basics; 'cutie', 'girly', 'missy', even the occasional 'doll' here and there. You... you don't think he's called you 'baby' before. Huh... _weird._

You're broken out of your musing by the familiar clatter of the med kit that you often typically use on the others when they come back from a trial. You have minor medical experience, mostly because your little sister had one rule and one rule only in the house that she was not allowed to break; _she wasn't allowed to play with your pet snakes._ Of course she had never been told 'no' a day in her life, so she often broke into your room in the middle of the night to play with one of your pet snakes named Peppermint that had this pretty pink morph-- and she thought this would go along perfectly simply because Peppermint was pink, and pink was _her_ color. Unfortunately for her, this particular snake _hated_ being handled and repeatedly bit the shit out of her hands whenever she tried to pick it up. She'd start crying, and you'd start laughing at her while patching up her wounds because Dad would beat you if you didn't.

...You think this is the first time this med kit is going to be used on _you_ and not one of the others... Strange, how the table turns.

After Frank grabs everything he's going to need for your hand, he wastes no time in rushing over to where you're lying flat on the bed. The poor guy is so panicked and so worried about the stupid little cut on your knuckles that he just completely forgoes asking you to scoot over and just decides to straddle your hips. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as his weight settles right on your pelvis, and you breath in deeply to let out an indignant cry of 'what the FUCK?', but you are silenced by one of Frank's long fingers pressing against your lips. You blink up at him in shock, as he stares at you with partially lidded eyes.

 _"Shhh..._ Let me take care of this. I'll get off of you in a second if it bothers you that bad, but I _need_ to fix your hand." He murmurs to you in a quiet tone, having finally calmed down and gotten his head back on straight. He eventually pulls his hand away from your face and holds his palm facing upward in an expectant fashion. "Okay? Gimme your hand."

"It's just a stupid little--"

"I don't care if it's just a _'stupid little cut'_. This building is dirty, and I don't want you getting an infection because of some _'stupid little cut'_ that wasn't properly cleaned. I wasn't asking, anyway. Now give me your hand, cutie." He says in a firm tone, wiggling his thick fingers at you for emphasis. You don't move right away and Frank challenges you by arching a pierced eyebrow, daring you to defy his command. With a hard sigh and an annoyed roll of your eyes, you place the injured hand in the palm of his hands.

He nods his head at you approvingly, and curls his semi-calloused fingers around your fingers to hold your hand steady. He grabs one of the antiseptic wipe packets and tears it open with his teeth. After pulling out the wipe itself, he carefully dabs the wet cloth across your knuckles. The stinging sensation causes you to hiss and twinge, but Frank keeps at it and continues to try and clean up your cut while cooing at you sympathetically; "I know, it fuckin' stings like a bitch... you'll be alright though. The cut doesn't look that bad, it just looks like you nicked a couple blood vessels that were close to the surface. Most you'll need is a band-aid. By the way-- mind telling me what the fuck happened? I mean, I was on my way to say good morning to you when I heard a crash in the hallway."

"You can't tell what's happened?" You ask rather plainly in a dry tone. "Look at my eyes, Frank. Notice anything different? Anything, I dunno... _monstrous?"_

"Not really. All I saw when I walked in was a pretty pair of red eyes staring back at me." He replies rather smoothly, already picking up on what's pissing you off at the moment. You visibly stutter at the compliment, and Frank smirks at you victoriously before softening his expression into something a little more affectionate and warm. You can't recall that you've ever seen him look at you like that before, but the kindly expression is... _oddly fitting_ on his handsome face. You try not to gawk too hard as he tilts his head to the side, causing a few locks of dark brown to fall across his forehead. "...Why do they bother you? They don't look bad, if that's what you're worried about. You're definitely not ugly, _that's_ for damn sure." He scoffs after tossing the bloody antiseptic napkin aside and grabbing a band-aid to place across your knuckles.

"...I went to wash my face this morning." You begin rather cryptically with a heavy sigh.

 _"Mhmmm, mhm,_ keep going." Frank says while gently using his thumbs to smooth the band-aid across your hand.

"I was in the middle of washing my face when I looked up in the mirror and saw my reflection--"

"Betcha looked hot as hell, like always." He interjectd coolly, only to flinch really hard when you suddenly and playfully slap his arm with your uninjured hand, making him let out a dirty little giggle that makes your stomach flutter.

"Could you take this a _little_ seriously?" You snicker helplessly while draping your hands over your stomach to soothe it, giggling because you are highly amused by Franks' stupid and incessant attempts to mess with you at the _worst_ time. "Honestly, you joke around at the _worst_ times possible, Frank..."

"Who says I'm joking around?" He retorts with a coy smile that turns a full-on smirk when his rather blunt statement causes you to go all wide-eyed and stock still. Frank just rolls his head back and lets out a hearty laugh before looking back down at you and huffing out; "Seriously girly? _C'mon_ sweetheart, gimme a _little_ credit-- do you really think a pair of red eyes would throw me off that badly? And I know I'm an asshole, but... _I'm not the kind of asshole who just flirts for fun_."He finishes with a rather pointed look that causes a bright red blush to erupt across your face.

"I always thought they were just attempts to get a reaction out of me..." You bashfully admit.

"Nah, sweetheart. I think you're cute. Plain and simple. We'll get to that in a minute though-- first things first; let's talk about this issue you seem to have with your eyes.... Though, I'd like to get a little comfortable first. Mind making a little room for me on that full-sized bed of yours? You look _awfully_ adorable all snug in the middle of it, but I kinda wanna stretch my legs."

You blink at him several times, trying to process all of the information he just spat out at you in that little statement. Once your brain registers that he's been flirting because he actually thinks you're cute and not as a joke, you kind of just lamely nod your head up at him before shimmying over to the side of your bed so he has a spot to plop down on the sheets beside you. Frank eagerly flops against the mattress beside you and takes his time while leisurely stretching.

"Aaahh, you're bed is so much more comfortable than mine. Gonna have to start sleeping in it." He casually remarks, smirking to himself when your throat clenches on the spot and forces the remaining air out of your lungs. He starts laughing really hard, bouncing around in the bed as he cackles and shakes his head in disbelief that his pick-up line actually managed to get a reaction out of you; "Too easy, doll! Too easy!"

"Shut up!" You hiss rather defensively, only to start furiously blushing all over again as he outright _purrrrs_ at the aggression in your voice. Frank smirks at you while rolling onto his side, happily sighing while nuzzling the side of his head into your pillow. He lays there for a couple moments with his eyes shut, just enjoying the peace and quiet before opening his eyes back up to look at you.

"So what's bothering you about the whole snake-eyes thing, Viper?" He asks softly.

"I just... I'm bothered by it because I feel like something was taken away from me. It-- I'm already having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'm actually going to have to start killing people, and that some **twiggy-twat-cosmic-cunt** thinks I have the potential to kill someone all because of my anger issues. The most I've ever done is put someone in the hospital-- _wait, that sounds really bad_..." You trail off, blushing when Frank chuckles in sick amusement before allowing you to start back up again; "I just... I feel like my humanity was taken before I was ready to give it away.

"I can understand that." Frank says with an easy nod of his head. "I know what that feels like. You know how I told you I was taken away from Calgary and put into the foster care system? Man, I was tossed from house to house like I was _nothing._ People didn't care about me, they cared about the fat paycheck they got from Family Services for taking care of me. I don't even remember why I was put into the Foster Care system, all I remember is thinking that the homes they put me into were worse than the one I was born in. My chance to be normal was taken from me before I could even decide what my favorite fuckin' color was."

"I'm sorry..." You whisper apologetically while rolling onto your side so you can look Frank in the eye. He smiles at you and the butterflies in your tummy flutter rather exuberantly. You nibble on your lower lip before cautiously reaching your injured hand out to gently cup Frank's cheek. He accepts the gentle caress of your hand with wide-eyes, obviously caught off guard by the affectionate gesture. You smile sympathetically at him before mumbling out; "I wish I could help...."

Frank lets out a soft, breathless laugh before smiling rather affectionately at you, as he places his hand on top of your own. "Cutie, you help more than you're aware of. Why do you think I like chasing you around the resort so much?"

"Because you're an asshole?" You retort so quickly that Frank violently snorts at your statement before wildly nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm an asshole alright." He says with a bright smile. "Yeah, you're fun to chase around because it's run to annoy the shit out of you... but I mainly like chasing you around because you're just to fun to hangout with in general, regardless of what's going on. We could be sitting in the den with the others just jamming to mixtapes, we could be running circles around each other in the kitchen because I stole your snack--"

"You didn't just steal my snack, you stole my _pizza._ Not just a piece of it, but my ENTIRE pizza." You deadpan.

"Hey, I was hungry and lazy, and you look hot when you're mad." He giggles with a lazy shrug of his shoulders, only to bust out laughing when you let out a whine and promptly bury your face into his chest to hide your blush. "Awww, did I make you bluuuush? _Good._ Means I've done my job. But back to what I was saying... Viper, I like hanging around you, because you take my mind off of shit."

"Really? Like what?" You ask with an adorably innocent tilt of your head that seems the cause Frank's breathing to suddenly hitch.

"Everything." He says in one big rushed out breath, dropping his eyelids halfway down as he drops the pitch of his voice a couple levels. "The trials, The Entity, Julie's constant bitching-- It's like I'm not even there. You're just a fun person to be around and I-- fuck, I'm getting sappy. I'm sorry--"

"No." You reply firmly while lightly pressing your fingers a little harder against his cheek, staring back into his wide eyes. "No, don't apologize. You shouldn't have to apologize for normal human behaviors."

"Really? You don't mind?" He asks while raising both of his brows up in surprise, before blinking back at you when you gently nod your head and smile reassuringly at him. "Really? Okay... cool. That's... _that's new_. Sorry, I'm just not used to that, I guess. See-- Julie hated it whenever I got sappy with her in private. Or public. It annoyed the shit out of her that I was so... _touchy-feely_ during our relationship. During those parties she used to throw, I'd sit down next to her on the couch and would try to wrap my arm around her and she'd always lean away. If I was lucky and she felt like being affectionate, she'd lean on me for a couple of minutes. It was frustrating as hell for me because... well, Julie got stared at a lot by the other seniors in her class. I'm a very possessive person and being told I couldn't do anything about it or even show that she was mine kinda pissed me off."

"I can see how that would become a problem. It's hard to feel loved when you're dating someone who has a completely different love language than your own." You quietly mumble as you begin to rub light little circles into Frank's skin with the soft pad of your thumb, unable to resist the smile that lights up your face when he hums appreciatively. 

"What about you, Viper?" Frank asks in a sleepy tone, feeling completely relaxed after being given physical affection for the first time in _years._

"I'm the same way. I'm very 'touchy-feely' as far as relationships go." You admit with a bashful smile.

"Mmm... good to know." Frank says with a slight smirk, only to arch an eyebrow when you stare at him instead of blushing like he had expected you to. He chuckles softly and smiles warmly at you while asking; "Why are you staring at me like that, cutie?"

"...I could show you, if you like." You quietly whisper.

You honestly didn't know how Frank would react to your not-so-subtle offer, but damn if you didn't love the way he looked at you just now! His dark brown eyes shone under the dim lighting of your room, reminding you of melted chocolate in the sun. His eyes get all big and bulgy and bright, and his lips slowly part and curl into a giant grin that occassionally twitches due to his blatant excitement at your offer. You swear if this man had a tail, he'd be wagging it all over the place like a big ol' happy murder puppy. Without hesitation, Frank shimmies around on the bed a bit before scooting down on the mattress every so slightly, so that you'll have plenty of room to do whatever it is you have in mind. You grin as Frank can't help but bounce around in the bed as he excitedly spits; "Hell yeah! Climb on top of me, babe!"

With a quiet and breathless chuckle, you push yourself off of your side of the mattress and do exactly as he says, throwing one leg across his hips so you can straddle his pelvis. Your palms come down to rest flat against the abdominal muscles his stomach, which flex underneath your fingertips. Frank's own hands come down to rest on your hips, where his fingers greedily flex against your curves. He swallows thickly before smiling up at you, scarcely able to believe this is actually happening. He's been flirting with you for so long and could never understand why you never accepted nor denied his advances, so to finally see that you do appear to be interested makes what little of a soul he has left just _sing._

Your smile back down at him and let out a breathy little giggle before summoning up your courage to just barely dip your fingers underneath the fabric of his shirt, which has ridden up a little due to all of the happy wiggly-worming he did before. As a result of your overly cautious touch, a shaky breath is forcefully pushed from his lips and it is quickly followed up by an apologetic murmur that makes you frown and shake your head and reassure him that everything is alright. Poor guy-- he must be touch starved. A broken home, a broken life... when was the last time somebody hugged him? Leaned their entire weight on him, or actually cuddled him? Had he ever even had those things in the first place? If he had been given the warmth of human comfort, would he have turned out differently? These are just some of the questions that swim through the bottomless ocean in your mind, as you gently drag your delicate fingertips over the many dips and curves of his abdominal muscles.

Frank stares up at you with big, bright, and excited yet vulnerable eyes, as your fingers splay across the expanse stomach and begin to dance, spin and twirl over his hot skin. He's not sure how to react right now-- He's not _innocent_ by any means and it's not like he's inexperienced, but it has been awhile since he's had some lovin' of any kind. It's going to take him a minute to remember everything. You seem to be perfectly content just caressing and and tickling his body with the soft pads of your fingers though, and he doesn't really mind that. He's just happy to have a set of kind and loving hands on him, and _fuck,_ he's so happy that it's _yours._ He's wanted you for awhile now, but hadn't any idea how to approach you or signal that he was interested other than just by aggressively flirting with you every chance he got. Subtly isn't exactly his style, and he isn't good at that cryptic _hinty-hinty_ shit-- it makes his head hurt. Even now, he's trying to think of how he can smoothly bring up the topic of dating to you without risking scaring you off or freaking you out, and it's giving him a bit of a headache.

_Little does he know that you plan on bringing it up for him._

You take a deep breath and let out a long drawn out sigh; "Before we go any further, I'm wanting to know what is your end-goal out of this. I don't want to waste my time and catch feelings for someone who is going to be emotionally unavailable. So what exactly are you looking for? One night stand, or--"

"Hell nah! I don't do one-night- _fucking_ -stands. Shit is for the birds!" Frank says in a rather fiery tone that makes you grin, because he reacted _exactly_ like you were hoping he would. "I also don't do that partially-committed or open-relationship crap either. Like I said before, I'm possessive. What's mine is _mine,_ and only mine. I'm either all in, or I don't want to have anything to do with it. Fuck that shit! ...Sorry, got a little too hype there. _Ehehehe..."_

"No, it's okay. I just needed to know for specific reasons." You reply cryptically, smiling coyly to yourself while hoping he'll take the bait.

"And what reason is that?" He asks with a heavy sigh as he adjusts his position by squirming around on the mattress a little, largely unaware of the part he just played in your plan.

"So I could do _this_ and not think twice about it." You smoothly reply while bending at the waist, before quickly pressing your lips up against Frank's lips. His eyes get all big and bulgy and he lets out this loud squeal of excitement, while wiggling his legs and curling toes in unexpected delight. You think something is wrong when you hear him squeak so you try to pull away, but Frank angrily hisses _'Get your fine ass back down here!'_ at you and snaps his hands up to grab large fistfuls of your shirt, before roughly yanking you back down to him and fervently grinding his lips up against yours with animalistic ferocity.

He lets out a deep, feral growl at the feeling of your hot lips up against his, and lets go of your shirt so he can tangle his fingers in your hair. After he growls, you purr back at him and enthusiastically push your body up against his to showcase your eagerness for more physical affection. Frank lets out this long, drawn-out moan at the feeling of the outline of your body being eagerly pushed up against his, and you can feel his strong arms tremble as he struggles to hold himself back. You can tell he's pent up, he has to be-- you would be too after years of no hugs, no kisses, no affection... _no intimacy_. You'd be _damn_ pent up, and all you can say on the matter is that you're _dying_ for him to take out that aggression on you. 

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. A little more, a little more." You urgently whisper in between kisses to convince him to give in his primal desires, while also vigorously pushing your body up against his in all the right places to try and get him to break. Another snarl leaves his lips after your hips roll against his pelvis _just right,_ and he suddenly decides that _he_ wants to be in charge. So he securely wraps his arms around your torso before whipping you around and shoving you onto your back, where he then forces your body to press into the mattress by draping himself over you. Your arms are grabbed and thrown up above your head where he quickly pins them against the mattress by the wrists, causing you to let out this quiet moan of anticipation right before he attacks your neck and begins dressing it up in a plethora hickeys and love bites that leave you weak in the knees. Your quiet moan grows in volume when he suddenly repositions his hips before forcefully driving them home, making stars flash and explode behind your fluttering eyelids. 

"How's that for a little more?" he growls against your neck, curling his lips into a grin when you laugh in response to his question. You don't respond with actual words-- you just purr devilishly while sounding _very_ much out of breath after having your world rocked around like a weeble-wobble toy. Frank just darkly chuckles to himself when he manages to catch a _slight_ glimpse of the blissed out look you have on your face and happily goes back to mouthing at your neck, fully intent on marking you up in the most obvious of places so that everyone you come into contact with-- be it visiting killers, or the other Legion members-- for the next week or two will knows that you are _his._ Maybe it's part of his possessive nature, but something about the idea of others jealousy staring at the red and purple bruises on your neck lights a fire within his veins. Because of this, he works diligently; making sure that when he's done, it'll look like you've been absolutely _ravaged._ _ **Because by the time he is done with you, you will be.**_

You begin trying to break your wrists from his hold, whining and whimpering as you fussily squirm around in an attempt to get free. The feeling of you struggling against his grip is enough to make him laugh under his breath, as he takes his sweet time watching you and indulging in the sight of you begging him under your breath to let you touch him. He raises a brow at this, and lets you go simply because he is intrigued. Your hands almost _immediately_ reach down for the edge of his shirt, where you begin hissing impatiently and tugging at it in an attempt to get it off of him.

"Get this shit off." You snarl aggressively, causing Frank to let out the most _beautiful_ groan you've ever heard.

"How are you so fuckin' hot when you're mad!?" He says as a rhetorical statement. "Don't fuckin' understand it. Drives me nuts, you know--"

_"OFF, BITCH."_

"Shit-- Okay, okay! It's coming off!" He spits out with an excited giggle, before sitting up so he can take off the shirt he's wearing. You watch intently as his fingers grasp the edge of his shirt before promptly pulling it over his head and carelessly tossing it to the side, revealing a _huge_ amount of tattoos and a _lot_ of lean, slender muscles. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the _beautifully_ and _masterfully_ done line work and shading that cover the entirety of his arms, from the very tops of his shoulders down to his wrists. Part of his chest as been inked up too, and you can't resist the urge to sit up, reach out, and touch him. A quiet, breathless moan falls from his lips as your warm hands travel from his navel, up and across his abdominal muscles to his chest, where your nails lightly drag over the gorgeous tattoos that decorates his body. They're all very well done, and you can't help but continue to openly marvel at Frank's body and tattoos while he flexes his muscles underneath your attentive gaze and careful touch.

"You look star-struck, _darling_." He purrs while looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. 

Your mouth just hangs open as you lamely nod your head before forcing yourself to meet his gaze. You shut your mouth and swallow thickly before shyly muttering; "Well... the one I have isn't _nearly_ as impressive as.. _all of yours,_ but... Do... do you you want to see it?"

Frank's eyes widen at the suggestive offer in shock before breaking out into a giddy grin. A velvety purr emanates from his throat as he drops his voice down a couple octaves and says; _"Would I ever."_

Once you remove your hands from Frank's chiseled chest, he very carefully wraps one of his arms around you. You can feel his thick fingers splay out across the lower part of your back before he starts gradually leaning you back down to the mattress, taking his time like you're some sort of fragile, priceless treasure. After you've been laid back on the bed like some sort of regal queen, Frank gets to work on the tight-ass pants you're wearing. He glances up at you with a inquisitive arch of an eyebrow as soon as his fingers come into contact with the main button, and only starts moving after you _enthusiastically_ nod your head to grant him permission to go ahead. Now that he has your permission, he makes quick work of your pants and has them around your ankles in seconds-- obviously, someone is a little excited to get this show on the road. 

You kick your pants off the bed and onto the floor, before arching your back towards Frank's hands after he reaches for the brim of your shirt. You shudder in anticipation when you feel his fingers graze your flesh, as he carefully pulls the shirt over your head before quickly tossing it off to the side where it plops onto the ground. A strong bolt of courage shoots through you, prompting you to rip your bra over your head and toss it across the room before falling back down to the mattress. Frank's dark eyes visibly dilate at the sight of your near-naked body, prompting you to blush ever so slightly as you cup your breasts and lift them a little so he has a clear view of the giant viper tattoo that curls around the front of your body. An appreciative moan falls from his lips as he begins to carefully trace the outline of the beautiful artwork that has been permanently inked onto your body. You visibly shudder underneath his feather light touch, causing him to grin and let out a breathless, lighthearted laugh that is quickly followed by a purr.

"Mmm... I've always wanted to see what it looked like. _Damn._ " He says, purposefully dropping his voice to a low octave that makes you clench your thighs together in a needy fashion.

Frank looks away from your tattoo and back up at you, where he locks and maintains eye contact with you as he begins to crane his head towards the beautiful artwork on your body. A shiver of anxiety ripples through your body and causes you to squirm, but one of his strong hands comes up to gently caress your side to help hold you steady. You relax under his touch as he begins to rub little circles into your skin with his thumb while lowering his head to your tattoo, and you let out a soft gasp when he unexpectedly presses his hot lips up against it. He stares at you the whole time as he begins to lavish your tattoo with the attention of his tongue and lips, using his lips to stimulate your senses by repeatedly grinding against your sensitive skin as he uses his tongue to tease and trace the outline of the ink. A soft whine leaves your lips when he travels _dangerously_ close to your breast, and he simply chuckles at you before pushing his nose up against your tit and giving it a soft kiss.

As he begins repeatedly pressing wet kisses against the swell of your breast, Frank surprises you by roughly pressing a finger up against your panties. The unexpected touch causes you to flinch and squeal out of shock, but you end up arching your back almost immediately when his fingers immediately seek out your clit through the already damn cloth of your underwear. When he finds it, he pushes his fingers up against it and begins to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties and grins when you let out a breathy moan as a result of the friction. You let out a whine of protest when he unexpectedly pulls his hand away only moments later, but end up squealing in excitement when he crawls up your body and braces himself over you.

With a hand braced against the mattress on either side of your head, he pushes his pelvis right up against the soaked part of your underwear and groans at the heat that manages to seep through them and his jeans. Like a pair of horny teenagers, the both of you begin to grind against one another. Quiet moans of pleasure begin to fill the room, as the both of you urge each other on by breathing heavily into each other's ear or kissing/nibbling against the earlobe itself. Gasps, groans, moans and squeals fall from your lips in rapid succession, and Frank can't resist the way pride swells within his chest as you begin to beg for more.

"You're already soaked, and I haven't even gotten your panties off yet." He comments in a teasing, cocky tone before heavily moaning against the lobe of your ear shortly there after. "Mmm, I can feel you through my jeans. Such a dirty little girl!"

"Take them off, and I'll show you how dirty I can be." You retort with a grin while biting on your lower lip, as Frank moans in response before promptly ripping your panties off of you and throwing them to the side. He sits up and begins to rapidly undo his pants, while you try not to blush at the obvious wet spot you left behind on the front of them. He smirks at you knowingly as your face becomes overcome with a deep shade of red, and chuckles to himself as he pulls down his pants _and_ his boxers. It quickly becomes inherently obvious that Frank has no shame what so ever about his body when he sits up with a wide grin on his face, revealing a perfectly solid 8 inch cock that has thick heavy beads of pre-cum dripping down the front of it. You openly gawk at the sight of his swollen cock openly throbbing and bobbing around in the air, as he flexes his pelvic muscles to show off for you. Your eyes flick back up to meet his lidded gaze, where he smirks and teasingly coos at you; _"Too big for you sweetheart?"_

With your eyes narrowed in annoyance at his cocky nature, you decide to teach Frank a lesson by using your weight as a counterbalance after you wrap your legs around his waist and throw your weight around to force him to roll onto his back. The move catches him completely off guard as he falls onto his back with a forceful huff, but he does let out an amused laugh when you try to pin down his wrists above his head with one hand. He knows damn well he could break out of this hold and flip your ass over like a pancake on Sunday morning, but he decides to entertain you for now and let you do your thing... that doesn't mean he isn't gonna give you his usual sass, though.

He settles back into the bed, playfully rolling his eyes up at you before cockily saying; "What are you gonna do now, girly? Gonna teach me a lesson-- _Ho-Holy SHIT!"_

Frank suddenly arches his back and lets out a long, drawn out moan when you unexpectedly wrap your fingers around his straining erection in a firm grip. An evil grin spreads across your face at his reaction-- someone hasn't gotten laid in a _long_ time, and you fully intend to take advantage of that right here and right now. So without hesitation, you lightly squeeze your fingers around the length of Frank's dick before beginning to prepare to stroke him off. The ample amount of liquid arousal leaking from the head of his cock is enough to work as a lube, allowing your fingers to smoothly glide over the rosy head of his cock to gather up enough of his pre-cum in the palm of your hand. Then you bring it down to his shaft, where you use it to jerk him off at a steady pace.

His reaction is immediate-- Frank's eyebrows furrow together as a needy whine falls from his lips at the _erotic_ feeling of your soft fingers wrapped around his dick, and his jaw goes completely slack as a shaky breath is forcefully pushed from his lungs at the way you expertly twist your wrists around to swivel your fingers all across his length. You let go of his wrists when you're sure that you have him under control, allowing him to have free control over his arms. With his wrists free, his hands harshly slap down against the mattress, where his fingers grapple the bed sheets and bunch up some of the fabric into tight little balls in his fists. His body is tense and remarkably sensitive after being neglected for quite some time, but you suppose that's probably _why_ hes so sensitive. Poor guy is just so pent up.

_Let's give him a little relief, shall we?_

"Fuck- Fuck- FUCK." He groans repeatedly as you gradually tighten your grip and speed up every so slightly, purring lasciviously at the way he twists around beneath you.

"Feel nice, baby? Want a little more?" You coo rather mockingly, taking note of the way his noticeably cock jumps in your fingers at the tone you take on.

"Yes-- Shit-- _FUCK_ it feels so good." He moans unabashedly before letting out another whine as he needily bucks his hips, causing you to giggle as you ride his thighs like you're riding a wave in the ocean. He shamelessly begs you for more, gasping and panting as you gradually pick up the pace ever so slightly; "FuckShitDamnit-- Don't fucking stop!"

"Aww, such a _poor thing--_ You haven't been able to cum in awhile, haven't you?" You ask in a sickeningly sweet tone that makes Frank feel _slightly_ humiliated, yet _so very fucking horny,_ only to break out into a wide, cheshire-cat-like grin when he openly wails and wallows in the feeling of you unexpectedly grinding your naked cunt up against the side of his cock. "Oop-- did you forget _I_ was still here? Tsk tsk! Need to pay attention, Frankie!"

"Call me that one more time, see if I don't flip you on your back and fuck you into next week and blow your back out." He hisses irritably, only to gasp when you interrupt him with another rock of your hips. You giggle evilly when he bucks his hips for more friction, and whines when you refuse to give him relief. It visibly frustrates him, causing him to hiss and growl like a pissed off feline up at you as he starts to _demand_ for relief; "Stop being a little fuckin' cock tease and ride my fuckin dick 'til it's soaking wet, god damn it!"

Oooh, _vulgar!_

"Aww, but I'm having so much _fun_ being a cock tease!" You giggle, only to girlishly yelp in surprise when Frank's hands suddenly grab a hold of you by the ass and lift you up into the air before dropping you back down on top of his cock, which easily slips inside of you because you're fucking _soaked_ and his cock has been drooling copious amounts of pre-cum since he saw your titties earlier. It pisses him off because it makes him feel like he's going through puberty again, but at the same time he loves it because _damn_ if it doesn't seem to get you excited. Even though your walls are stretching to their limit to accommodate his large size, you're still struggling to keep still to give yourself enough time to adjust as his cock twitched deep inside of you because you just want to _let_ _go_. Meanwhile, Frank has his eyebrows squeezed together and his jaw is hanging completely loose, as he gasps and moans with every excited twitch and throb of his dick.

When the both of you have recovered and are sure you're not going to cum right there on the spot, you begin to steadily rock your hips back and forth on his dick. Frank's eyes roll back as he lets out a heated moan of your name, which you eagerly return with a moan of his. He must like hearing his name come out of your pretty mouth because his cock just eagerly jumped inside of you and pushed right up against a sensitive bundle of nerves deep within you, causing you to let out a shrilly moan that catches his attention and makes him flash you this dirty looking grin. _"Feel nice, baby?"_ He teases, using your own words against you.

"Fuck you." You hiss irritably, only to yelp when he bucks his hips and forcibly drives his cock up into your g-spot.

"You already are!" He says with a smirk, only to curse under his breath when you pick up the pace and start rapidly bouncing on his fat dick. The both of you become lost in the feeling of his cock being repeatedly driven in and out of you, and the world around you fades out. The sound of the howling wind outside of your window isn't heard by either of you, nor is the sound of twittering crows far off in the distance. All that is heard is the sound of flesh meeting flesh, and the sound of your moans and gasps as you lose yourselves within the throes of passion.

You can feel his thick fingers squeeze and flex against your flesh before he decides to explore your body. An appreciative moan falls from your lips as he begins to grope, grab, and grip at your breasts, ass, and sides, like he's unsure of where exactly he wants to put his hands. Still, you love the feeling of his rough hands brush over your skin, but your favorite part is arguably when he lightly pinches your nipples between his fingers and gives them a gentle little tug to stimulate your senses and increase your hypersensitivity. You force your tight cunt to contract around him as a reward, and he lets out a feral growl at the feeling of your already walls clenching around his cock.

"Fuuuuuck, Viper." He groans as he looks up at you through his fluttering lashes. "Fuck, you're so god damn _tight--"_

"S-sure it's not because you're so th-thick?" You moan back before roughly bucking your hips.

"Sh-Shit!-- Baby, Don't talk like that, I'll-- Oooooh _shit,_ I'll bust right here. _Fuck, you fuck me so good!"_

"It's cool, birth control." You spit out quickly as you speed up the pace a little, earning a confused look from Frank who is probably wondering where the hell you got some from. "Susie got s-some for me, when I told her I liked you a couple months ago _\--damn it--_ wanted me to be s-safe! _Fuck!"_

"Remind me to thank Susie later with a beer or somethin--" He replies with a groan, only to hiss when you slam down onto him particularly hard. "Jesus fuckin--! Fuck, you gotta let me on top, Doll. C'mon, lemme pound you into the bed. I'll fuck you good, I promise-- _Shit! Fuck!"_

You don't reply verbally, you just grab Frank by the shoulders and roll over so he's on top. Frank purrs appreciatively and takes two seconds to adjust his knees before setting a brutal pace that has you loudly mewling in a overtly lewd manner. Your arms reach under his own arms so your hands can find purchase on his rippling back muscle, and your nails dig into his flesh when you find it. Frank moans as your nails leave bright red angry streaks behind, causing him to fuck your tight twat with a little more force. Your bed rocks back and forth from the raw force his thrusts have, but the both of you pay it no mind as you cling to one another and eagerly chase after your steadily approaching climaxes.

"You're so fuckin' _tight._ It's like a warm, wet clamp wrapped around my dick, it's the best fuckin' feeling in the entire god damn world." He growls into your earlobe before harshly biting on your neck, reveling in the moan that his words rip from you. "Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me. Tell me-- _fuckshit--_ Tell me how I'm making you feel, baby girl. _Ah!--_ Tell me what's going th-through that pretty little mind of yours!"

"I feel so f-full!" You moan back in a shrilly whine, arching your back and spreading your legs as wide as they can go so he has _plenty_ of space to fuck you silly.

"Yeah? You're gonna be by the time I'm through with you. You're gonna be so fuckin' full of my cum, you're going to be _dripping_ with it." He purrs in a wanton manner as he continues to aggressively pound you senseless. "You're gonna waddle for the next fuckin' week and every time you feel your fuckin' hips ache, you're gonna remember what I did and who you belong to. _Is that right? Huh?"_

"YES! Yes, yes, yes I'm yours, I'm all yours!" You babble as a hazy cloud of raw lust shrouds your mind, as Frank repetitively thrusts into your g-spot particularly hard.

"That's fuckin RIGHT!" He roars possessively, only to let out a drawn out moan when he feels his balls clench "Fuck- Baby, gonna cum--"

"Fuck me with everything you've got! C'mon baby, fill me up!" You roar back, digging your nails into his back hard enough to draw blood.

Frank hisses at the erotic feeling of your nails digging into his skin, and smiles to himself before following your command and fucking you so hard that he's actually a little worried the bed is gonna break underneath the pressure. Meanwhile you lurch your head up to smack your lips up against his in an attempt to muffle the scream that leaves your throat, as your cunt clenches and your orgasm suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks. He's not faring off much better, moaning heatedly against your lips, whimpering and whining as his cock suddenly bursts, shooting thick ropes of his hot seed deep inside of you. The both of you grind your lips against one another, fervently and desperately kissing each other for some sort of aid to help keep the both of you grounded as your orgasms overwhelm you. Frank tries to help the both of you ride out the waves by burying himself deep inside of you and gently grinding and pushing his pelvis up against you.

Once he's finished cumming, he breaks away from your kiss and softly groans out your name while dropping his head down to rest in the crook of your neck. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he lifts himself back up onto his shaky arms and looks down to watch as he pulls his cum-covered cock out of you, openly groaning at the sight of his seed seeping out of you. White liquid pours from your lips as you twitch, whimpering and whining from hyper sensitivity as he teases you a little by pushing the head of his cock up against your clit.

After the both of you are satisfied, he carefully shifts you over and collapses onto the bed beside you.

Frank collapses onto the mattress beside you and uses what little strength he has left to lazily lean over the side of the bed, trying to reach the lighter and box of cigarettes in the pocket of his jeans that he took off earlier. The arm he's using to support his body weight unexpectedly gives out, causing him to nearly fall out of the bed until you manage to catch him at the last minute by wrapping your arms around his naked waistline. With a grunt of effort, you pull him back up onto the bed and he smiles appreciatively at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead and then offering a cigarette. You decline, but decide to lean over and kiss him on the lips really quickly before he decides to start smoking-- cigarettes are exactly a romantic taste to you, but he seems to be aware of this as he tiredly mumbles that he'll brush his teeth after he's done smoking so you won't have to smell it on his breath.

You lean against his muscular bicep as he lights up the cigarette, but eventually have to lift your head and place it on his chest when he decides to wrap the arm around you instead. You watch his lips purse against the filter of the cigarette as he takes a long drag. Eventually he pulls the cigarette away and leans his head back to exhale the smoke up and out of the way where you won't breath it in. Then he presses another kiss to your forehead before sighing contentedly as he cuddles lose to you.

"Holy shit." are his first words.

You giggle in response before purring out; "How'd I do?"

"Considering I'm unable to walk and nearly fell out of bed? I'd say pretty fuckin' good. Gimme a bit, and I can do it again." He says casually, causing you to audibly choke on your own breath. As you begin to cough, he throws his head back and cackles before saying; "What? You thought one round was all you were gonna get?"

"I just-- I mean--" You mutter nervously, unable to really find the words to form a coherent sentence.

"Baaabyyy giiiirl, I dunno what kinda dudes you dated in the past, but I'm a _man._ It's my job to make sure my girl can't do much else other than twitch after I'm done with her and considering you _pulled me back up on the bed,_ I'd say I'm not done with you yet." He giggles before side-eyeing you with a big smirk. "Besides, I gotta make up for all the times I'm gonna piss you off on a daily basis from now on."

"Piss me off? What?"

"I'm hard to love, baby girl. I'm clingy and possessive." He admits.

"But that's what I like." You say without hesitation while tilting your head back to look up into his dark brown eyes. "I think the real question is are you going to be able to handle _my_ clingy ass? You're gonna start coming home from trials and I'm gonna be on your lap for the rest of the night."

"I'd like to say so. Besides, that's what _I_ like." He retorts with a coy grin.

"Then what is there to worry about? Just cuddle me, 'yah big doof. We'll worry about the rest when the time comes."

Frank gigglesnorts and nods his head before tightening his arm around you and holding you close to his hot and sweaty body. "Alright. I can do that."

"Good, because whether you like it or not Mr. Frank Morrison, you're stuck with me."

_"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby girl."_

♥

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody!  
> So what did you guys think? If you liked it, please consider leaving a kudos and/or a comment below. They really help keep me motivated, and I would like to hear what you guys liked about this fanfic. I'm gonna be writing more for this story once I get another plot going, so keep on the look out for that too!  
>   
>  **PERSONAL NOTE:**  
>  I have a tumblr, but it's mainly used for re-posting fan art of my stories-- such as my Bendy series. I love fan art, and I'm happy to show anything I'm given off. If I receive fan art for any of my stories, credit will be given. I don't steal art. We don't do that here. 👍🏻 So if you have fan art that you made and want me to use it, notify me on HERE and then I'll go check my tumblr! Also, please consider checking out Cyberneticss on Instagram! She's my best friend and she does awesome fandom edit work.  
>   
>  **LINKS:**  
>  My Tumblr: https://its-metal-mistress.tumblr.com/  
> Cyberneticss Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cyberneticss/  
> My Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/imetalmistress/  
>   
> Anyways, I'll see you guys in the next one! Buh-Bye!  
> -Mistress  
> 


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